


without a thing but memory

by hrtbnr (kiden)



Category: The Creatures | Cow Chop RPF
Genre: Fake Chop, M/M, Possible Character Death, Superpowers, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 13:57:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15293016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiden/pseuds/hrtbnr
Summary: super powers but maybe. time loop but maybe. character death but only maybe.  you can read this however you'd like.





	without a thing but memory

**Author's Note:**

> this was written with the idea that james can manipulate time and aleks can manipulate fire, but you don't have to read it that way. maybe james is just remembering. maybe he's going back in time. who knows. WHO KNOWS. and maybe one day i'll add more to it.

He can feel the rain on his face and biting into the back of his neck.  Under his hands, wet brick and the flaking, rusted metal of a fire escape.  Aleks is frozen there in the space just below him, and no matter how hard James tries to get to him, to reach out, to make his body move, _ he can’t. _  He’s still, his hand out, open for James to take it, and before he starts falling the windows on the floor below them blow out, fire and smoke and  _ force _ , and then James can’t see Aleks anymore. 

Los Santos is lit up for miles in every direction, the sky a washed out gray even in the middle of the night.  In the heat and light of the explosion his mind stops, flashes, remembers hot summer nights in the middle of nowhere. Aleks’ skin against his, a fire burning between his fingers and James’ chest.  Aleks never asked him to make promises but James did, always would, couldn’t stop himself. Everything he wanted lived in the corner of Aleks’ smile when he looked at him, his pink tongue, the shape of words hidden there. 

An underground show where they could feel the bass and drums beneath their feet.  Aleks’ tattoos under James’ hands, slick with sweat, pressed too close together, not close enough, Aleks’ body backed up against the wall, James’ fisting his tank-top and keeping him still.  He tilted his head up so James could see the long line of his neck, the sweat pooled at the hollow of his throat and across his collarbones.  _ Burning,  _ both of them burning, Aleks red and yellow and glowing white-hot; tattoos blue and green, cold colors of the ocean, the sky, contrasting against the fire under his skin.

Aleks is frozen just out of James’ reach, and the explosives James set earlier go off, blow out the windows, broken glass mixing invisible with the glittering rain, the fire billowing out, rolling forward, eating Aleksandr up until James can’t see him anymore. 

Time stops, James’ mind stops, flashes, goes back to hot summer nights in the middle of nowhere.  

A fire held in the cup of Aleks’ hand, pressing against James’ chest, the way he looked down at him, face framed by thousands of stars cut out of a clear, wine colored night. 

Aleks at a show, the band so loud James’ couldn’t hear the way he sighed but could feel it against his cheek and mouth.  Aleks presses his lips to James’, he tastes like bottom shelf whiskey and weed, and he  _ breathes _ . Breathed, is breathing,

Breathes fire. 

James can’t hear him, but he knows the way Aleks’ mouth moves, knows the way it feels against his own when he says he loves him.

He makes a grab at Aleks too late.  Aleks falls and then gets thrown out by the force of the explosion.  James can’t hear him, but he knows the way Aleks’ mouth moves when he says he loves him.  

He goes back, to one warm Colorado night, to Aleks’ palm, the long line of his neck, a shitty basement band.  


End file.
